Breaking the Playboy's Rules

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  But she was a big, fat fraud.

  An imposter. Because, while she definitely grieved for the loss of a dear friend, Julian had not been the love of her life.

  Millie leaned forward to pick up her mineral water, sat back again and looked at the ice cubes rattling against the glass for a moment. ‘No, I’m not, but my mother is.’ She brought her gaze to meet his and continued, ‘Will you do it?’

  Hunter held her gaze for so long without speaking, she had to moisten her dry lips again. His eyes followed the movement and something behind her heart fluttered like a trapped insect. ‘Why me?’ His tone was curt, business-like, but his darkening brown eyes belonged in the bedroom. The flutter in her chest travelled to her stomach—soft little wings beating against the walls of her belly, sending an electric tingle down the backs of her legs.

  Millie leaned forward in her chair to put her glass of mineral water back on the table. She was going for cool and calm and collected, but inside she was trembling with strange, unfamiliar sensations. Smouldering heat coursed through her body. Her heartbeat accelerated, her skin prickling and tingling behind the shield of her clothes. But pride wouldn’t allow her to tell him the truth about her mother’s situation.

  That was another of her well-kept secrets. Diamond heiress Eleanora Donnelly-Clarke was practically penniless after multiple divorces. Millie’s mother had been blessed with stunning beauty but had severe dyslexia. Each of her exes had taken advantage of her literacy and numeracy issues, and ex number four was about to do the same. If it wasn’t for the trust fund Millie’s grandfather had set up for Millie, both she and her mother would have gone under by now. But Millie had her own jewellery business to run and couldn’t afford to carry her mother too much longer, especially in the event of another costly divorce—hence her appeal to Hunter.

  Millie met Hunter’s gaze. ‘Because I’ve heard you’re the best.’

  One side of his mouth came up in a half-smile, as if he found her comment mildly amusing but of zero importance to his own estimation of his competence. One of his muscled arms was draped casually over the back of his chair, one ankle propped over his strong thigh, just above the knee. Unlike her, he had cool and calm and collected down to a science. ‘And here I was thinking you were after a one-night stand with me.’ His voice was deep and smoky, his smouldering eyes doing a slow appraisal of her face and figure.

  Millie gave a stiff smile, showing no teeth. ‘Sadly, no.’

  A single eyebrow rose again, his eyes glinting. ‘Sadly?’

  Millie’s heart rate shot up as if she were drinking rocket fuel instead of mineral water. She sat straighter in her chair. She had to do everything she could to keep her body from betraying her in the presence of his sensual charm. Everything, including keeping her wayward gaze away from his sinfully sculptured mouth. ‘In spite of what Dan and Beth think, you’re not my type.’

  Hunter gave a slow smile that did serious damage to her determination to resist him. ‘Nor you mine, but they seemed to think we’d be a match made in heaven. I wonder why?’ His question was idly playful, rhetorical, even slightly mocking. Strike that—definitely mocking, drat the arrogant man.

  ‘They’re under the misguided impression that a fling with you will somehow help me move on from the loss of my fiancé,’ Millie said in a tone so starchy and prim, she could have been lecturing young Victorian ladies on etiquette. ‘But I’m afraid they have seriously over-estimated the extent of your charm.’

  He gave a wry laugh, but then his expression gradually lost its teasing playfulness, his eyes becoming dark and more serious. ‘I guess you’ll move on when you’re ready to.’

  Millie lifted her chin and held his gaze. ‘I’m not ready.’ Would she ever be ready? When she’d been young and first fancied herself in love with Julian, getting married and setting up a home together was all she had wanted. But, when the hammer blow of his diagnosis had come, everything had changed. Her dream relationship had become a nightmare in reality.

  Hunter’s eyes moved between each of hers in a pulsing moment that ratcheted up her heart rate. Time stood still—so still she could hear the roaring echo of her heartbeat in her ears. He was a top-notch lawyer. He spent hours listening to clients, making sense of the things they told him, both true and false and all the shady spaces in between.

  Could he see the truth behind her lie?

  His eyes went to her mouth, lingering there for a heart-stopping moment, before coming back to her gaze. ‘So, about your mother’s divorce.’ The subject change nudged her out of her thoughts. ‘I should warn you, I don’t come cheap.’

  Millie tried to ignore the little niggle of panic about her bank balance. She was a moderately successful jewellery designer in an increasingly competitive market, but exorbitant legal fees were going to put a considerable dent in her savings. ‘I can afford you.’ She injected her tone with pride, her chin elevated.

  Their gazes were locked in a power struggle for a beat or two but then he suddenly frowned. ‘Why would you be the one paying your mother’s legal fees?’

  Millie lowered her shoulders in a despondent sigh. ‘Because my mother’s soon-to-be-ex spent a lot of her money in a get-rich-quick scheme that fell flat. Plus, she just found out he has a mistress on the side. Mum will pay me back once she gets back on her feet.’ If she got back on her feet.

  He studied her for another long moment that felt like an aeon. ‘I’ll do a deal with you. I’ll give you a discount if you have dinner with me tomorrow night.’

  Millie’s mouth fell open. ‘Dinner?’

  One side of his mouth tilted upwards. ‘You do eat occasionally, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but I thought, given what a disaster our last dinner was—’

  ‘Maybe I want another chance to stun you with my charm.’ A teasing glint appeared in his gaze.

  ‘You said it yourself—you’re not my type.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean we can’t have a pleasant dinner together and clear the air after the last time.’

  Millie wondered what motive was behind his invitation. Had her previous immunity to him presented him with a challenge he couldn’t resist? She’d often wondered since that night, if they had met up on any other date other than the anniversary of Julian’s passing, if she would have been quite so immune to him. In spite of her unfriendly behaviour that night, she had noticed his traffic-stopping good looks and superbly toned body. She had desperately tried not to notice but a woman would have to be brain dead and without a pulse not to be impressed by how gorgeous he was in the flesh.

  In the flesh...

  Her mind swam with images of him naked and her pulse shot up again. She schooled her features into a mask of cool indifference, as if his invitation was nothing to get excited about. No point feeding his morbidly obese ego. ‘I’ll have to check my diary.’

  ‘So, check it.’ He nodded his head towards her bag where her phone was housed, his tawny eyes containing a challenge. Resist me if you can.

  Millie sent him a sideways look, picked up her bag and took out her phone. She gave her phone diary a cursory glance, knowing full well there was nothing scheduled for the following night.

  Her mind was going up and down on a seesaw. Should she or shouldn’t she meet him for dinner? He said he would give her a discount on her mother’s legal fees. Was this his bargaining chip? The more time she spent with him, the more intrigued by him she was. She had never met a more confident and self-assured man. A man who set goals and went after them with a single-minded purpose. Exactly the sort of man she needed to help her mother get out of this latest financial hole. She put her phone back in her bag and clicked the fastening closed with a definitive snap. ‘I’m free, as it turns out.’

  ‘Good. Where do you live? I’ll pick you up at seven.’

  ‘Erm, that’s not necessary. I can meet you, like I did the last time.’

 
An implacable light appeared in his unwavering gaze. ‘Let’s not do anything like we did it the last time. I’ll pick you up and take you home.’

  Millie decided against making an issue of it and gave him her address, then added, ‘How soon can you meet with my mother? I know you’re awfully busy and—’

  ‘I’ll clear a space first thing tomorrow morning. Eight a.m.’

  Millie let out an audible breath of relief. ‘That soon? I don’t know how to thank you. But would you mind if I came with her for...support?’

  ‘That’s fine. Bring any necessary documentation with you—financial records of joint assets or debts, bank statements, tax returns, that sort of thing—plus a list of any questions you’d like to ask, and any relevant information about the other party. It will help speed up the process. How long has she been separated from her husband?’

  ‘Only a couple of months.’

  ‘How long have they been married?’

  ‘Four years.’ Millie waited a beat and added, ‘She’s been married three times before. They’ve all ended in divorce.’

  Hunter didn’t seem at all shocked, but then, she figured he dealt with this sort of thing day in and day out. People who had once passionately loved each other fighting it out as bitter enemies in court over the division of assets. He had taken her account of her mother’s soon-to-be-ex’s reprehensible behaviour with such implacable calm, as if he heard similar stories every day of the working week. She wondered if that was why he was such a freedom-loving playboy. Maybe he found the notion of long-term love nothing more than a Hollywood fantasy. Dealing with warring divorce parties would be enough to turn anyone into a romance cynic.

  ‘Which of her ex-husbands was your father?’ he asked.

  ‘None of them.’ Millie looked at the loosened knot of his tie rather than meet his gaze. ‘He died a couple of months before I was born. I think it’s why she’s been so unlucky in love since. She tried to replace him but could never find someone good enough to fill his shoes. It’s why she’s always kept his name. It’s the one thing she didn’t get talked out of relinquishing by any of her subsequent husbands.’

  Hunter uncrossed his ankle from where it was resting on his bent knee and leaned forward to pick up his drink. ‘Life can be tough on some people.’ He took a small sip of his drink and put it down again.

  ‘Yes, it can...’ Millie looked at her left hand where Julian’s ring sat. Barely a day went past when she didn’t think of him. Not because she still loved him, but because of how unfair life had been to his mother and him. Julian’s life had stopped at his diagnosis—the life he had planned, that was. So too had his mother’s, all her hopes and dreams for her only child shattered by that devastating diagnosis. The gruelling treatment and multiple surgeries had taken away Julian’s potential, reducing him to a frailty that had angered and frustrated him in equal measure.

  And Millie had been chained to his side through all of it, trapped by a sense of duty that, to this day, she couldn’t free herself from feeling. Because she hadn’t been honest about her feelings for Julian—platonic feelings, not romantic love.

  Hunter’s phone rang and he grimaced as he checked the screen. ‘I’ll have to get this. Sorry.’ He rose from his chair and added, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ And then he wove his way through the other tables, presumably to go outside to take the call in private.

  Millie couldn’t see the street from this section of the wine bar, so sat finishing her drink, wondering if she had done the right thing in asking him to help her mother. He was the best man for the job, but it would mean regular contact with him for her, as her mother’s supporter. Some divorces were simple and clear cut, but none of her mother’s divorces had been, and Millie had no expectation this one would be any different. Hunter was a disturbingly attractive man and she wasn’t half as immune to him as she’d thought.

  He’s not your type. The words so helpfully supplied by her conscience were not as reassuring as they ought to be. Right now, she didn’t care if he wasn’t her type. She couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to have that sensually sculptured mouth pressed to her own. She suppressed a little shudder and put down her empty glass.

  Don’t even think about it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HUNTER’S HEART PRACTICALLY came to a stop every time he got a call from one of his sister’s carers. He went outside to take the call away from the background noise of the wine bar. And away from anyone—most particularly Millie—listening in.

  ‘Rupinder? Is everything okay?’ He cupped one hand over his other ear to tone down the sounds of the busy street. His heart rate would never return to normal until he was assured everything was all right with his sister who had a rare genetic disorder. Emma required round-the-clock care and he had set her up in a nice townhouse close to her medical specialists, and organised and funded a team of full-time carers for her.

  ‘Yes, everything’s fine to do with Emma, but I just wanted to let you know I’m going to have to take a couple of weeks off due to my mother suddenly taking ill. She needs surgery, so hopefully I won’t be too long off work, just till she gets back on her feet. Judy is going to fill in for me—is that okay with you?’

  Hunter let out a sigh of relief that the emergency at hand had nothing to do with his sister this time. ‘Of course. Take all the time you need.’

  Too many phone calls over the years had brought news of Emma having yet another grand mal seizure or some sort of serious infection. Meningitis, bronchitis, pneumonia, sepsis...the list went on. The worry was a constant background humming in his brain. One of the worst seizures Emma had had was on the day of his blind date with Millie. He had come straight from visiting his sister in the hospital, where the specialists and medical students had gathered around her bedside, gravely talking amongst themselves about her rare condition and what remaining options there were. Hunter had never felt less like going on a date, and certainly not one organised by his friends.

  He was the last person who needed help in the dating department. He had no trouble attracting beautiful women to his side—his biggest problem was getting rid of them. He wasn’t interested in settling down with a nice girl someday. Who would take him on with Emma as part of the package deal? Hunter was her guardian and he held power of attorney now their mother was dead. Their father had washed his hands of them long ago and now had a new family. A perfect family.

  Hunter had seen a photo of Millie Donnelly-Clarke at a society ball in the press a few months ago and had been intrigued by her. She had an untouchable air about her, regal and aristocratic, and he’d found himself agreeing to his friends’ suggestion of a blind date with her.

  But then Emma...

  A lot of his life was dictated by his sister’s problems. Ever since he’d been twelve years old when his parents had divorced, and Emma only seven, he’d had to step up and take on heavy responsibilities to do with the welfare, care and support of his sister—not to mention support his devastated mother, who hadn’t coped with being deserted by Hunter’s father. Abandoned and ripped off in the divorce by the man who had once claimed to love her, Hunter’s mother had been left to raise two children, one of whom required constant care and numerous expensive therapies.

  Hunter hadn’t been in the best of moods when he’d met Millie for dinner and, given how prickly and unfriendly she had been, he hadn’t bothered to dazzle her with his usual charm offensive.

  But strangely, ever since, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.

  Was it because she’d been the first woman to give him the brush-off since he’d been a gangly, awkward teenager? Because she was the only one that had got away and now he wanted another chance? He wasn’t the sort of guy who couldn’t handle a bit of rejection now and again. He wasn’t exactly short of female attention. He only had to click his fingers and a beautiful woman would be his for the asking.

  But
something about Millie’s immunity to him had got his attention. And kept it.

  Hunter ended the call with his sister’s carer, pocketed his phone and walked back into the wine bar. Millie was sitting bent over her phone and it gave him a chance to look at her before he joined her back at the table.

  Her silvery blonde hair was long and lustrous, exactly like a skein of silk. Her figure was petite and slim and yet utterly feminine. The first thing he had noticed about her was her grey-blue eyes—they seemed to change colour with her mood. One minute they were a smoky grey, the other an ice-blue. Her complexion was the classic peaches and cream, with high aristocratic cheekbones, a ski-slope nose and an upturned mouth that had been the stuff of his night-time fantasises for the last couple of months, since their ill-fated blind date. He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her, not even to shake her hand in greeting, much less kiss her cheek. And yet, every male hormone in his body throbbed with the desire to do so.

  When he’d received the text from her about meeting up for a drink, he had thought she’d changed her mind about him. It had put a spring in his step the whole way to the wine bar, wondering why she had changed her mind when he hadn’t exactly been Prince Charming that night. But she hadn’t contacted him for a rerun of their blind date. She wanted to engage his services as a lawyer for her mother, yet she had agreed to another shot at dinner. Tick. That was a win for him. He was looking forward to making up for the disaster of their last date. Never let it be said a woman walked away from a date with him without a smile on her face.

  Hunter walked back to the table and she glanced up from her phone. One of her neat eyebrows rose and her smile had a cynical tilt. ‘One of your many lovers checking if you’re free this evening?’

  Hunter rarely spoke to anyone about his sister’s circumstances and was certainly not going to do so now.